


Drown

by intotheruins



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dark, Darkfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: "I am better.""At what?""Everything."And that, oddly enough, also meant love.





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a rape fantasy without the sex. A mental rape fantasy? I'm not sure, but tread lightly; no one dies, but this is definitely dark. It's also meant to be sexy, so if you're into this kind of thing, yay, you're in the right place! :D

_"I am better."_

_"At what?"_

_"Everything."_

And that, oddly enough, also meant love.

Well. Jim hesitated to call it "better." More, maybe. Fiercer, without question. When Kahn loved, he would destroy planets and bring down empires if it meant keeping those he cared about safe. He would act, manipulate, even cry to get what he needed, and then he would, indeed, walk over the cold corpses of those he deemed less worthy without so much as a first thought.

Actually, Jim didn't hesitate. It wasn't better. It was so much worse. Better love was Jim's father, sacrificing himself so that his crew—and his family—could live. Better love was Sulu's husband and the daughter they were raising; together when they could, but even apart, that love held them, kept them connected. Better love was growth and light, and a security that could be clung to even in the worst moments.

To be loved by Kahn was to be caught in mercurial eyes and drowned, devastated... devoured. It was the crashing roar of rapids, the rush and suck and pull of water forcing its way in until it was one with the soul it had ensnared.

It was Jim calling for help and not really meaning it; he'd lost the battle at the first lick of the river down his throat.

He still didn't know how he'd ended up on this dark ship, empty but for the two of them and a cargo bay of seventy-two silent crew members, caught in the grip of cold water that didn't want them. Not yet. But Kahn did—Kahn loved them, and he would make the waters rage and consume.

Did they all feel that way about each other? Jim shivered, the thought a slide of ice slinking down his spine.

He had little else to do as he wandered through the quiet hum of the ship, so he imagined it. Not just water, not with seventy-three all loving each other into fierce destruction. It would have to be a sea monster—fluid like the water it inhabited, filling and filling him until every cell wanted to burst to relieve the pressure, and then receding like the tide to let him breathe. Rest, rest, then overcome again, again...

His vision went red.

He blinked, and found himself standing in the cargo bay before seventy-two modified torpedoes, hands clenched into such tight fists that his nails had sunk into flesh. Blood stained the floor in little, hot drops—each one a promise. An intent.

One step back. Another. Slowly, he unclenched his hands, but didn't take his eyes off the crew until the door slid closed.

Back, back the way he'd come, down the hall and up three decks, flowing with the pull of water to the source—to silver eyes and a long-fingered hand around the back of his neck, the bruise-tight grip, the mossy, smooth-stone syllable of his name slipping from a cupid's bow mouth into his ear, _Jim._

Can you make me better, he wanted to ask, and the question slipped free as he leaned in, in, nuzzling at the warm skin of Kahn's long neck.

The fingers around his neck tightened further. _Yes._

There would be tests and medical procedures and technologies Jim didn't recognize, that changed him right down to his cells, and Kahn's hand on his chest through it all, pressing him back into his skin again and again and again until Jim pushed back, and became his equal.

In the cargo bay, seventy-two drops of blood dried into the floor promised that, eventually, Jim would be Kahn's only equal.


End file.
